Son Of The Desert
by SilvusFyrehauk
Summary: Quatre's thoughts after his father was killed and when Wing Zero was being built. A little different than I usually write...


The desert before him was a plain, drab color, dotted ever so often by spindly, stunted trees and grayish cacti. The wind blew, ever so slightly, and a traveling plant of some sort, 

( _perhaps a tumbleweed? )_

rolled across his field of vision. A lone bird called out from a messy nest of sticks and woven straw. Somewhere, far away in the distance, another bird called back. Its mate? 

The sunset landscape, with its gold and red hues, was beautiful to him, as all the Earth was beautiful. 

This was the desert…the place where he had been born, and raised to love. Although some viewed it as dull and slow, it really was exciting, with lovely flowers and graceful animals. 

Quatre Winner lowered his eyes from this house's scenic view, to study the intricate designs emblazed on the rim of his cup. They were the family sign of the Winner line, and had been passed down for generations. 

He sighed, and set down the teacup on its matching small dish, to be followed by a gentle clinking sound, like silver wind chimes. He rose from the overstuffed chair, and strode unsteadily to a large computer system on the far wall. The computer showed him all he needed to know.

He smirked uncharacteristically, unconsciously retaining the expression he had found when his father had died. Wing Gundam Zero was almost done.

_Then, _Quatre thought, an evil smile forming upon his lips and contrasting with his usually sweet face. _I will pay back those colonies for what they did to my father. I will destroy them all with the ultimate weapon! _

He walked around the house, his shoes tapping on the polished hardwood floors. This house had lain dormant for years, forgotten, another simple piece of Winner merchandise. But Quatre, after his insane flight from the site of his father's death, had returned here, for the specific reason of being alone. 

There were no Maganac here, no sisters to care for him, no fellow Gundam pilots to help… no company for lonely times. 

Loneliness.

It struck him as a sudden hammer-blow to the heart, pinned him down under steel bars, so that he could not breathe. He leaned against the elegant, if flamboyant, staircase, unaware of the glittering diamonds on his cheeks until they swirled like a tiny waterfall of emotions down the wooden neck of a carved phoenix, dripping slowly off the end of its graceful tail. _Lonely._

Quatre let them leave, the tears, until he felt empty and hollow, like an abandoned shell. His soul, battered though it was, felt scraped out, roughly, so that he hurt inside. 

_But why?_ He thought, rising up slowly, wiping off his face with a sleeve. _Why do I hurt so much, here inside?_

He walked up the staircase, to a lost, sandy bedroom. He went over to the open double windows, reveling in a cooler breeze that flowed from behind billowing curtains. The purple light, brightened by faint moonbeams, streamed in elegant waves from the window. He walked slowly to the window, his slight figure encased in silver light. 

He leaned against the window frame, looking out at the stars, appearing through the haze of pink and gold sun down. They were the cause of all the trouble, those innocent looking stars. Or at least what resided near them. The colonies. 

_They killed my father because of their incompetence. _Quatre ground his teeth at the sudden emotional pain that memory brought. 

_"No! Father!!" Quatre screamed, as the beam of light hit the resource satellite and tore it apart. _

_He watched the shattered satellite drift from its original site, feeling a jumble of tangled emotions growing from deep inside him. Fear…confusion…panic…sadness…**anger**.. and others he could not identify burst forth from him in a maniacal laugh as he declared vengeance upon the colonies._

It hurt, so much, that even now he could still feel the rage from that day. 

Rage…

__

I didn't used to be like this…Quatre thought sadly as he traced the window frame's outline. _I guess the war has changed us all, some more than others. And some of us have never known anything **but**_ _the missions, the battles…the slaughter. _

A hand, running through his blond locks, parting them as it went, suddenly fisted on them and tugged gently. _Oh gods…will it never end? I remember all of them, every single soldier, life snuffed out in a heartbeat, by the slightest impact _here_, the slice of metal skin_ there…

Quatre let go his hair, staring down at his hands. The hands that had triggered the command of "kill", and in turn had molded the pliable clay of him until he became what he was today. A killer, murderer of his own kind. 

_It wasn't my decision! _Quatre begged to himself, his conscious. _The war…it fed as it always had and will, and tore a path…one that I was swept up in. I had no choice but to fight, to protect what I hold dear! Sandrock and I…we were like brothers, and together we followed the same path in life. _

They had, until the war had fed its insatiable appetite once more, and had taken Sandrock away… 

_*neep * neep * neep* _

The sound shook Quatre out of his depressed reverie, and he looked up, startled. The computer! He'd nearly forgotten! 

He hurried down the stairs, the mahogany carved-eyes of the tear-lined phoenix glaring at him balefully, though he paid it no heed. 

Striding across the room, he reached the computer quickly, and glanced at the screen. Some old battle fever sprang upon him in a red fury, as he remembered the cause for restoring the old Wing Zero suit. 

The colonies will receive their due punishment for being so naïve! 

The young blond smiled gleefully as he quickly took himself to where the suit was. Once there, his eyes slid over the smooth lines of its wing vulcans, then lingered a bit over the gleaming twin barrels of its beam rifle before hopping in the cockpit. 

He wound his hands slowly around the unfamiliar controls, so different from Sandrock's. The screens flashed a luminescent blue, the quickly took the appearance of the surroundings. He didn't feel any different, even though this Mobile Suit had the Zero system in it. 

A light at the end of an underground tunnel opened, and Quatre maneuvered Zero around until it was facing the entrance. The wing vulcans lifted and brilliant blue-white vernia blasted out from the engine as it flew towards the light. 

The bar-like lights illuminating the passageway reflected off Zero's serene emerald eyes as it achieved the end of the tunnel. The huge machine exploded out of the ground, making a miniature sandstorm as the sand swirled upwards in a twister. Quatre grunted, leaning forward at the machine's extreme speed in clearing the atmosphere. _Soon, Father, soon I will avenge your death._

Soon Wing Zero was nothing more than another winking star, high in the night sky, set to change history. 


End file.
